Shattered Child

She was walking home happily. For once in her short life, she was able to look straight ahead of her, not at the ground like she always do. All the weight on her shoulders were lifted. She had a 94% in her math exam, the subject she had the most difficulties. This time they would have no choice to acknowledge her, to be proud of her. Yes this time her parents would be proud of her, this time they would not criticize her. She entered in her house without any hesitations for the first time of her life. She walked into de kitchen only to find both her parents waiting for her with the same deceived and angry expression they were always giving her. She felt as all the weight in the world was put back upon her frail shoulders, her gaze diverted back to the oh-so-familiar ground. Without a word she gave her exam to her father who merely glanced at it before tossing it on the table like it was some kind of annoying advertisement. She felt her heart shattered again, all her hope the be acknowledge by them been crushed.

“You have forgotten to do your shores” Said her mother, looking down on her child like it was merrily a stain on her perfectly waxed floor. It wasn’t entirely true, she had done most of it but forgot some because she was so caught up in her studies for the exam. The same exam that was lying on the table, totally forgotten.

“But….but….” She couldn’t find a reply, she did it all wrong again, as always. It was always her fault, no matter what happened, she was always the source. This time, it was her father who looked down at her.

“No but! Why are you unable to do something right for once!?! Are you too dumb to remember such simples tasks?” Said the man with hatred. She wanted to cried but she bitted back her tears, knowing that it would only make her parents more crossed against her. She raised her eyes to look in those of her father, a fatal mistake.

“DON’T LOOK AT ME WITH THOSE EYES!!!” said the angered man, rising is fist that collided with the face of his daughter. She was so small and frail that the hit had send her to the ground. She was tasting blood, her blood, she had bitted her tongue at the impact. She laid there as the man towered over her, grasping the neck of her shirt and pulling her up on her feet.

“You useless child! You could die that nobody would notice! Go to your room, I don’t want to have to support your sight until tomorrow!” Without a look behind, she walked to her room, holding her already bruising cheek with her hand. She started to ascend the step, but the stair seemed so endless…so endless…

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She waked up, startled. Those memories again, they were not leaving her alone! She drew back her left sleeve, revealing a complex network of scars. Picking up the small knife she always kept in her pocket, she sliced trough her flesh. A thin line of crimson appeared from the future scar, another among so many more. She looked, fascinated by the blood that was slowly dripping from her wrist, falling to the ground. She was starting to calm down, letting the memories of her past seeping out of her with her blood, forming a small pool on the ground, at her feet. No, those memories would never leave her alone, as long as that broken child lived in her she would never find peace. And this broken child would remain for ever broken, with nobody there to try to pieced her up. She would always remain that shattered child who seek the be acknowledge by the ones who had made her this way….